The Golden Promise
by slytherin lilly-bean
Summary: A twist of fate brings a part-veela and a cold wizard together in a way neither one of them expected. DMOFC


Disclaimer:  Anything you recognize, I don't own it.  Please don't use my original characters without permission!  Thanks!

**Chapter One**

Draco mumbled the password to the statue of the phoenix. While he wondered what in bloody hell an atomic fire ball was, Draco stepped onto the slowly rising, revolving stair case. He was pondering to himself about why Dumbledore would want to see him. He had been sitting at his desk when Fawkes had landed on it with a decisive plop, with a letter attached to his foot. The message that Dumbledore's phoenix, had delivered had been very short. It had simply read,

_"Draco,_

_                   At your convenience, would you be so kind as to see me in my Office?_

- _Dumbledore-"_

**_"_**Honestly!" Draco thought out loud. "I feel like a rotten student again!" 

 Just to entertain himself, Draco thought of the days when he actually had been a rotten student at Hogwarts. 

He thought, with a sort of grotesque amusement, about how easy it all had seemed then. Life had been simple with nothing to do but bully people around and be an asshole to every one. He had been horrible to everyone, and when people finally got pissed off, he would run and hide in daddy's shadow. 

In fact, Draco thought, it seemed that was all he had ever done as a child. Well, that was until Daddy's shadow had become a dark, and dangerous cesspool that threatened to swallow him whole.

"Shut up!" Draco commanded his own train of thought. He didn't think he could handle any magic carpet rides into his stupid past at that particular moment.

"Besides," he said to no one, "things are going to be different now. I am different now; I'm a new person. I'm not that spoiled child anymore. I'm a professor at Hogwarts…"

His new train of thought was interrupted again. This time it was by the sudden stop of the stairs in front of the Headmaster's huge Mahogany double doors. 

Draco stepped off of the stairs, but he didn't go in. Instead he stood outside and stared at the two mammoth-like doors. He stared at them simply because he had never even noticed them before. Draco had never noticed that there was a very intricate and detailed wood carving there. It was an exact likeness of the school. A picture that, as far as Draco could tell, was completely accurate, all the way down to the sea creature lulling across the lake. Off to one side of the school, little people zoomed about on broomsticks. They were playing what appeared to be a very interesting game of quidditch.

Around the edges of the door were, carved into the wood, all of the previous headmasters. Like their portraits, hanging in Dumbledore's office, the headmasters all snored loudly, in undisturbed sleep.

"Hmm," Draco gave a grunt of approval before opening the door and complacently striding into the room. 

Walking into Dumbledore's office always took Draco's breath, a little. He had never fathomed how a headmaster's office could have such grandioso and such beauty, yet still manages to keep a business-like atmosphere.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk waiting, when Draco glided into the second half of the room. 

Draco suddenly felt bad for having stood outside and stared at the doors for so long. After all, he was supposed to be a changed person, and that didn't included making the head master wait forever and a day.

Trying to show his apology rather than say it, Draco quickly took a seat in front of Dumbledore's desk.  Dumbledore was about to speak when the office doors burst open, and a very upset and out of breath McGonagall exploded into the room.  She stopped abruptly when she noticed Draco, her back straightened and her jaw line tightened. She gave a curt nod in his general direction.

"I'm sorry to have interrupted," she apologized, making it quite clear that the apology was meant for Dumbledore and not for Draco. "Albus, I need to speak with you immediately."

If this seemingly vital interruption had worried Dumbledore, he didn't show it.  Instead he calmly turned and faced her.

"Has something happened, Minerva?" Dumbledore made an appointed effort to speak in Draco's presence.

It appeared that Professor McGonagall had gotten the message, because she looked extremely betrayed and offended. She shot a stern look of accusation at Draco before continuing. 

"A girl … from Beauxbatons has just arrived," she said mysteriously, reluctant to speak in front of Draco. She paused and then slowly continued, carefully choosing her words; her voice unusually shaky. 

It was quite obvious, to Draco, that she was really worried.

"She has collapsed in the entrance hall. I think she maybe dying, Albus. The last thing she said was that she needed it speak with you,"  As she finished, her eyebrow arched to a curt peak in agitation. 

With his emotions hidden by unreadable stones, he turned towards Draco. 

"I cannot express how sorry I am that you came all the way down here just to have to turn around and go back again. I had originally wanted to give you something, but it can wait for a little while." 

"Please, don't worry about it. It isn't that far and I can come back whenever you send Faux to fetch me," Draco said with a good humored grin, all too aware that McGonagall was starring at him with a flaming gaze of animosity and distrust.

"By all means Headmaster, send me an owl when you would like to try again." With that he stood, and made his way for the door, He stopped under McGonagall's gaze and respectfully took a deep bow, in her honor, before gliding from the room.

On the way back to his office, Draco pondered over what McGonagall had said, and how distraught she had looked. He also marked with mild concern, how much suspicion and distrust were in the gaze that she bestowed upon him.

Just the name of that place, Beauxbatons, brought back many memories that Draco never wanted to visit again. Beauxbatons was where Draco met true evil for the very first time. Ironically, he had been living with it the entire time.

Beauxbatons was the where Voldemort finally fell for the last time, taking with him a handful of his followers, Lucius, and the hero, Harry Potter.

In the end, it was the famous Harry Potter that killed Voldemort. 

It was on that very same night that Draco turned away from his family, and gave up everything that he had ever known. That decision ultimately landed him where he was at that very moment.

When he was young, he had played his family's "dark" games, because that's what they were to him; they were just games. He did it, to be the cool Slytherin.  He had never really known that he was playing with fire. It wasn't until that night that Draco finally got burnt, and he knew that he would carry the scars from that burn for the rest of his life. 

Draco's train of thought stopped, when he ran smack into his office door. Draco cursed aloud and reached up to mollify his throbbing nose. 

More and more lately he found himself diving into his own cesspool of tangled darkness. He had a lot on his mind these days. A great deal more than was normal for a man of his stamina.

"Bloody hell!" Draco cursed for the second time in the last fifteen minutes. He was doing it again. 

Draco managed to snap himself out of his humiliating stupor long enough to take in his surroundings. He looked around, and at first, he did not know where he was. Then the throb in his nose reminded him.

He stood in the hallway, down in the dungeons, in front of his office door. Much to his amazement, he was just standing there starring at the door with his hand on the handle. 

Infuriated with himself, Draco wretched the handle, threw door open, and stalked inside. He took, what was supposed to be, a deep calming breath, and then made his way towards his desk. As Draco did this, the realization that he was developing an odd fascination with closed doors picked its way into the intricate clockworks of his overworked mind. 

Draco noted with out much ardor that he had a very cold, dark, and drab room. In fact, if Draco would have allowed him self to ponder on the subject further, (which he most definitely did not) he would have wondered if that was not a sign that one was losing one's mind. 

Alas, instead of allowing another depressing wave of melancholy to betake him, Draco made a conscience effort to concentrate on planning the first week of lessons for his fourth years.

He managed, for the most part, to do this without interruption. Draco sat there and planned lessons well into the wee hours of the night. 

"Minerva please calm down and tell me what has happened," Dumbledore coaxed as they made their way fervently toward the hospital wing. 

"I told you," McGonagall replied, disregarding the first half of his request. "I was on my way down to Hagrid's cabin, to ask him something. When I got to the entrance hall I saw a very sickly, ravaged-looking young woman. She was struggling to crawl into the front door. Well, naturally I went down to see if she was alright. She told me she was from Beauxbatons, and that she must speak with you immediately. She was crying something awful, and then she just collapsed! I ran for Madam Pomfrey first, and then came straight to you," She exclaimed in one big breath. "Albus," she said "I'm terrified, what if… if it's… what if he…" 

"He isn't Minerva, rest assured of that," He cut off her distressing flow of words. "It is impossible, Minerva, and you very well know it," He added 

After some time he added, "I will need to speak with the girl in private," He said pensively. 

"Of course, I understand," McGonagall added as if this last statement were ridiculously obvious.

Dumbledore didn't show it for Professor McGonagall's sake, but he was very much so concerned for this girl.  The girl, he thought, had to be running from something. 

He knew that the school had almost been shut down completely, a few years ago. Several appeals and court hearings had been held over the last year, and two months ago the Ministry of Magic had finally chosen new a headmistress. The school was due to open on schedule this year. 

He also knew that the new headmistress had been accused of being a death eater at one time, and was not unlike Lucius Malfoy had been at one time. When times were still bad, she had been very high in society, and never without a good alibi. 

 Minerva, on his left, looked as she had in those years just before Harry and Voldemort died, when things were really bad, and every one lived in fear. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the two finally approached the hospital wing door.    

Minerva mumbled something about still needing to talk to Hagrid, and started walking towards the entrance hall. 

Dumbledore opened the door and stepped inside. As usual everything inside the wing had a dark, cool, somnolent look to it. The long room had two rows of identically shaped steel beds down either wall. There were a few doors scattered here and there, in between the beds, which led to solitary rooms for especially sick individuals. 

Dumbledore turned to meet the hard, but caring face of Madam Pomfrey. 

"Headmaster, I understand your concern for the situation, but she is very ill. I really most protest," Madam Pomfrey exclaimed with stressed patience. 

Dumbledore, who knew that if she would have already physically thrown him out into the hall if had been anyone other than the Headmaster of the school, smiled gently. She cared for the students with a great vehemence, which was a quality that he liked in her, but he really would have to push his authority this time. 

"Poppy, has she woken yet?" Dumbledore inquired with a gentle, yet authoritative tone. "I understand, that she would like to speak with me?" It was more of a statement than a question.  

Madam Pomfrey understood, because she quickly took a step backwards and the challenged gleam of rebellion melted from her eyes. 

"Yes sir, of course, I'm sorry," she curtsied, reluctant to step down against her will. "She has been awake for a few minutes sir but she is greatly distressed sir, and she demands to see you sir. I have been trying to get her to calm down for some time now." Madam Pomfrey pointed to the small room off to the right, that the girl was in. 

He left madam Pomfrey's side and began to make his way towards the small room.   He stepped into the room, and beautiful, although, very sick, and exhausted-looking, girl lifted her head off the pillow to look at him. At once the girl began attempting to sit up. Dumbledore lifted a hand to stop her. The girl obeyed, and instead, propped her pillow up against the backboard.

"Please," she began. "I need your help."

" Madam," he interrupted. "Rest that you are quite safe. You are at Hogwarts, there is nothing to worry about, rest, please," he coaxed, in much of the same way that he had to Minerva, just moments ago. The strangest sensation came over him when she spoke. It was not, however, one that he had never felt before. Still, he needed more proof of such a thing before he jumped to any conclusions.

"What is your name child?" he asked instead. 

"My name is Aurelia, I ran away, I can't go back," she sobbed in a weak , barely coherent out burst of terrified French accent.

"Well Aurelia, I promise you nothing can harm you while you are in my care. Now that that is out of the way, would you like to tell me what has happened?"

She ordered her mind, which was closing in and going blank, to hold out just a little while longer. She began slowly, and with caution.

"I've been locked in a small shack, just outside of my mother's house, with the Fidelius Charm cast on me." Her voice trembled, but she stomached the shutter growing inside her, and forced herself to continue. "I escaped for now, but I know she will come looking for me soon. Please professor Dumbledore, I won't go back, I can't!" 

"You will not be forced to go anywhere Aurelia." Dumbledore had just figured out what the odd sensation was. It was the feeling that one gets when one has fallen madly in love. The oddest feeling, this was, but not uncommon. Veelas, a type of nymph, where known to have this effect on every male that they came into contact with. Dumbledore recalled seeing all the men swoon, hoot, and even fight over the veela performers that performed during the quidditch world cups.

He knew that it was possible for a veela to birth a half-human child, rare but possible. He recalled a time that seemed like a different lifetime to him now, when a student had come from Beauxbatons to perform in the Triwizard cup, who had been part veela. Dumbledore gazed intently at Aurelia now. Yes, he could see the resemblance. Her hair, although not silver, was a very long, thin, gently spiraling, pale, blonde color. 

Aurelia had been watching Dumbledore watch her for the last couple of minutes. Her hopes began to sink. She had hoped that Dumbledore the Great would have been immune the awful effects of her family's curse. 

 He was not giving her the same expression that every male she had ever looked at gave her. Still, she did not think he used that look on his students.

 Dumbledore changed the expression on his face to a twinkling smile when he saw the anguish that was beginning to seep into her eyes. If he was right, then this poor girl was probably sick of men fawning over her all the time.

"Aurelia when you were a student at Beauxbatons did you attend the Triwizard tournament?" 

At first Aurelia thought, he was mistaking her for one of her sisters, Fleur, but she answered anyways, "Yes sir, I was there."

Then it was as he expected. "Aurelia, tell me child, you had a sister, two in fact, did you not? I believe their names where Fleur and Gabrielle?"  He asked.

Aurelia lowered her head before answering. "Yes, sir," Then her head shot up, in protest. "But, I'm not like them!  I would never do the things that they did! I would never use my looks to get what I want from the men. Never. Really, sir I would not I promise! I… I don't… I'm not even… I'm a lesbian! I don't even like men!"

Shock and surprise flashed across Dumbledore's eyes now. 

"Stop!" Dumbledore silenced her with one hand. "I do not give a frog's toot, about such things. That is none of my business. I have no doubts that you would conduct yourself in a manner suitable of a staff member at Hogwarts. I was simply curious," Dumbledore added as Aurelia began to cry again.

 He exhaled then continued in a more cheerful manner. "Well that explains that, and I can see that it brings you none of the pleasure that it brought your sisters to flaunt your ancestry. I will tell no one, and you need tell only those you feel worthy of the information. That goes for the latter as well. You need tell no one what you do not wish them to know," He finished hoping he had established a more comfortable atmosphere in the stifling room.

Damn it all, she thought, Tears again! Though, she tried, she could not stop the overwhelming sense of appreciation, and respect from welling up, pouring down her chin, and  diving off onto the coverlet, that she had clutched to her.

She nodded her head in reply, simply because that was all she could do at that time.

"Yes, but that's only half of the story," she sobbed out suddenly. "I was never the lovely favored thing that my other two sisters where. Fleur and Gabrielle were always so proud of their charm," she hissed with ample amounts of seething sarcasm. "The family always disliked me, because I abhorred going out and wielding my beauty like the sword of Excalibur onto unsuspecting men, for no nobler a cause than to increase the family fortune! Mother hated me for that. So when…when they…and…" 

"I already know that part of the story, please continue with yours," Dumbledore interrupted.

Grateful beyond words, to omit that from her story, Aurelia continued. "So she locked me away, and when they died she blamed me saying I could have helped. She swore I would never leave that shack." Aurelia was so tearfully exhausted she had to force herself to ask one more question. 

"Headmaster please, can I stay?"

"Of course, you can.  Tell me, is there anything that you are particularly good at?"

"Oh I can do anything!" Aurelia pushed at the somnolent cover that was falling over her eyes.

"Mother did let me graduate, if only to uphold the family name. Although I was never allowed to choose a profession, I imagine that I am qualified to do just about anything." She said, excitedly, trying to push the heavy sleep from taking her.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore chuckled at how enthusiastic she had become. "But what do you like to do?"

He knew that she wanted to work hard. He also had known for some time, that her so called "mother" was whom they had chosen as the new headmistress. He wondered if she knew, though. He decided he wouldn't be the one to tell her, at least not right this second anyway.

Aurelia was searching her brain hard for an answer. She didn't, in all honesty know when the last time she had actually "liked" something, had been. The only thing that even came close was her books, but she hardly doubted that that would be of any use.

Before things had gotten really bad at the end, her mother had permitted her to have books. If it weren't for being able to escape into the wonderful realm of her imagination, she would have stopped breathing a long time ago. She paused only for a second in her decision, and then looked to Dumbledore.

"Books," she said simply, and with finality "I like books." 

Upon hearing this Dumbledore lifted his head and burst out into a merry explosion of twinkling laughter. This worried Aurelia a little. In response, she turned red and lowered her head thinking that maybe she had said the wrong thing. "That's Wonderful!" He exclaimed, ultimately eliminating Aurelia's chagrin. She looked up as he continued. Our librarian, Madam Pince, has been asking me for years to hire an assistant librarian to help her out. Eh… would the position interest you?" Dumbledore asked with a look on her face like that of a laughing person that was trying to become serious in a very short amount of time.

She was getting weaker and weaker by the second. She could feel the ripples of the blackout gently fluttering in her direction. She could almost feel it's long stringy arms encircling her mind. 

A very weak, and probably unconvincing, "That would be wonderful," was all she could manage get out.

"Most excellent, now, you my dear need to get some rest, and good health. I will talk to the caretaker, Mr. Hughes, concerning your sleeping quarters, and I'm sure Madam Pomfrey would be more than glad to find you a few outfits until you are well enough to travel to hogsmeade yourself." Dumbledore stopped when he saw how weak the girl suddenly looked. He stood and began to make his way towards the door.

Seeing this, Aurelia summoned all of her will power imagining it as a big ball of faint yellow light, and then she threw it out with as much force as possible, trying to open her once more. It worked. 

"Headmaster?" she whispered.

"Hearing this, Dumbledore worried about how fast she was losing her energy again, but he promptly spun around and faced the girl once more. "Yes?" he asked.

"Thank you," she whispered, "For everything."

"Nothing could bring me more joy," he answered.

Before falling back onto the, and into a very deep state of unconsciousness, Aurelia bestowed upon the man a rare and most beautiful gift. One she had not given in years, and almost never to a man.

She smiled.

A/N:  Thank you for reading, please leave a review.  My dream is to be a writer one day, and I am practicing with fan fiction.  Please give me any constructive criticism you want!        ****


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